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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30119688">Broom People</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shorlinne/pseuds/S'>S (Shorlinne)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Call the Midwife</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Domestic Fluff, F/F, Fluff, Mild Angst</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 01:40:15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,140</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30119688</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shorlinne/pseuds/S</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Delia, at the end of a long day, comes home after a tense lunch with her mam. Patsy reassures her.</p><p>Pure, unadulterated fluffy pondering nonsense. Inspired by the Mountain Goats song of the same name.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Delia Busby &amp; Patsy Mount, Delia Busby/Patsy Mount</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>37</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Wild Creature</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>Friends who don’t have a clue,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Well meaning teachers,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>But down in your arms,</em>
</p><p>
  <em>In your arms, I am a wild creature.</em>
</p>
<hr/><p>Delia pushed her hair back, tucking it behind her ears as she let her other hand drum against the lace-lined tabletop while the cafe bustled around her. Around her the suserations of other patrons and the soft whisk of skirts and slacks from waiters and waitresses threatened to overwhelm, to surge over, and every question she’d asked herself in the mirror this morning hung at the forefront of her mind.</p><p>
  <em>Should I have trimmed my bangs? Was this the right blouse to wear? Is my lipstick too bold, my nails too trimmed, the flush too bright on my cheeks?</em>
</p><p><em>Why is she waiting so long? Is she angry? Have I done </em>another<em> irredeemable wrong?</em></p><p>Even the ticking of the ornate clock across the room seemed to resonate inside her skull, and she couldn’t-- Just-- Just couldn’t stop the bouncing of her leg. <em>Delia, that’s a horrible habit</em>, came the voice and she nearly jumped--</p><p>Reassuring herself that, no. No one was there just yet. Only her, the occasional stutter of her saucer, and her over-milked tea as she waited for her mother to finally arrive. It wasn’t that she was late, but that Delia was early, and had hoped that maybe an extra cup of tea and settling in would have at least soothed her nerves. </p><p>Being early was something she’d caught from Patsy, from the nursing home, from Nonnatus -- Time, she found, was ever fleeting and for so long she’d just wanted <em>more</em> of it. It was perhaps the third time she’d been on the ward with Patsy, and she hadn’t quite gathered her footing yet. Good marks didn’t make up for her lack of experience, and certainly hadn’t made up for the mess of things she’d made coming in only a minute past due.</p><p>	Patsy had done something Delia hadn’t expected from the stern, blonde nurse:</p><p><em>She’d covered for her</em>.</p><p>What happened after had begun as making up for the moment: Coming in early with a cup of tea, a packet of biscuits inevitably shared, mild questions about the weather. It had furthered: staying after to help square empty beds, arrange flowers, dish off last-minute good-nights to patients as shifts ends and waiting, lingering in the halls for the other to walk out together. She’d saved those extra moments, catching the rare glimpse of the woman beneath her mask, a quick grin, a soft chuckle, an aside or two--</p><p>And each moment stretched, filling that time she had just <em>wanted</em>. Marking the time, making it all the more worthwhile until she had found Patsy, too, catching those spare moments that grew and grew between them into more than moments, into memories...</p><p>Delia found she had stopped tapping, the slight clatter of her saucer edging into nothing as her leg stopped. Her nerves had faded into a soft smile at just the recollection, and now they were something else, edging from fraying to electrified. The tap of her fingers had bounced from anxiety to determination with each thrum until dulled, and now against her chest and the beating of her heart she could feel the warm ring of metal settled against her breast, and she felt as if it were radiant alongside her.</p><p>As if lasering in on her daughter’s joy, Enid Busby pulled back the chair before Delia and settled down with a loud sigh. Delia blinked, reworking her expression, but as she opened her mouth her mother lifted the menu before her and gave a low <em>tsk</em> of revulsion, nose wrinkling.</p><p>“Haven’t they got anything less… Common?”</p><p>And so, Delia swallowed her ire and focused in on the warmth radiating from her breast, and the pulse of memories that made things like this all the more endurable.</p><p>Only a few scant hours more and she’d be--</p><p>---</p><p>“Home!”</p><p>Delia closed the door to their flat with her hip, juggling the lock closed with her spare hand while the other arm leveraged a bag of groceries and a large box her mother had <em>insisted</em> she take, full of keepsakes and curios from her childhood room. </p><p>
  <em>We’re cleaning it out a bit, Delia, since you seem so intent on staying… Here. I thought you might like them!</em>
</p><p>Previously the actions of her mother and her words would have been upsetting. Now, setting the large paper sack on their side table and kicking off her shoes, Delia felt… Well, <em>content</em>. Content enough at least to ignore her mother’s attempts at invading, invalidating and interrupting the life she had made here. </p><p>A few souvenirs from a life past no longer dragged her back the way she had come. Now they propelled her forward, moving through the flat on bare-but-stockinged feet to find Patsy, who stood halfway up a stepladder with a brush between her teeth, comparing painted scraps of paper to the wall. </p><p>“Dehlia?” Patsy’s voice was muffled and Delia found herself just grinning up at the tall redhead, who peered over and let her shoulders relax. Lowering the paint scraps and tucking the brush behind her hair (a movement that sent Delia’s stomach into a flip, even now) she stepped off the ladder and appraised her beloved.</p><p>“I thought you’d not be back until supper? Is everything alright?”</p><p>Delia stepped forward and threw her arms around Patsy’s shoulders. The redhead stepped back in surprised, but grinned, and moved her own arms up to support the Welshwoman as she leaned in on tiptoes, planting kisses wherever of Patsy’s face and neck she could reach. Patsy let out a laugh, smothered by a quick kiss, before pulling back with her eyes sparkling. A single brow raised as she murmured,</p><p>“Well, I’ll take that as a yes.”</p><p>“Good. Because I’ve got more for you, if you like.”
“Oh--?!”</p><p>Patsy’s inquiry was quickly cut off as Delia dragged her down again for another kiss, and Patsy relaxed against her. The Brunette’s hands locked around the back of her head, toying with her braid as Patsy moved to wrap her own arms around her in return. Laughing, Patsy shook her head, locked her arms behind Delia and scooted her up into her arms, as Delia let out a wild, joyous yelp and clutched her harder.</p><p>“Not if I get to you first,” Patsy beamed, holding her up. Delia swatted her playfully on the arm, and grinned,</p><p>“That’s hardly fair.”</p><p>“Well, I don’t hear you arguing.”</p><p>“And I don’t see you moving! Scoot, Pats!” Delia directed, and laughed warmly as Patsy turned, carrying her off through the open doorway beside them, into their shared room.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. A Babbling Brook</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>I write down good reasons to freeze to death</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>In my spiral ring notebook,</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>But in the long tresses of your hair</em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>I am a babbling brook.
</em>
</p>
<p> ------------------------------
</p><p>The bed sunk with a <em>thump</em> as Patsy and Delia crashed onto it, laughing.  Still entangled in Patsy’s arms, Delia unlinked her own and pushed up on the bed with one elbow, propping up on her side as Patsy did the same, the two mirrored and panting. Patsy’s face was lost in a hopeless sort of grin, the kind that made Delia’s heart ache with joy, and Delia hummed contentedly, pushing back a lock of hair that had escaped Patsy’s braid.</p>
<p>“You’re in a mood,” Observed Patsy, smiling around a softened tone. Her spare hand landed on Delia’s hip, and brushed soft circles with her thumb, as Delia let out a soft exhale.</p>
<p>“Yeah. Lunch with Mam was..” She shrugged and trailed off, as Patsy frowned. </p>
<p>“What’d she do now?” Patsy’s voice was low as she moved in closer, and knelt to brush a kiss across Delia’s bangs. Delia gave a soft chuckle, and shrugged gently,</p>
<p>“Oh, the usual. Tried to guilt me about staying here, not being connected enough to home. Said Da’ missed me. Claimed she’s upheaving my whole room, tried to cry on a scone, wouldn’t hear me tell her how happy I am.”</p>
<p>“She cried on..?” Patsy’s brow knit, and Delia looked up with a roll of her eyes,</p>
<p>“Well, not <em>on</em> it, but she feigned tears enough.”</p>
<p>Patsy let out a low exhale, and planted another kiss as Delia hummed, leaning her forehead against Patsy’s chest as she knelt down. Muffled, her voice rose from Patsy’s jumper:
“I just don’t know why she can’t accept that I’m happy.”</p>
<p>Patsy frowned openly now, knowing Delia couldn’t see her face, and ran her hands through her beloved’s hair, pulling her close and cradling her now against her. They shifted, Delia scooting to lie her head and upper body on Patsy’s, as Patsy lay resolute below her, her rock against the storm. Combing through Delia’s hair with one hand, her other found Delia’s and squeezed lightly.</p>
<p>“Well, that’s on her, isn’t it? I think she can choose to grow and see it or..” Patsy shrugged softly,</p>
<p>“She can stay miserable forever. But I know your mam well enough now.”</p>
<p>Patsy leaned in to place a kiss on Delia’s scalp, and murmured,</p>
<p>“I think she’ll come around. You know your dad has.”</p>
<p>“Yeah?”
“Mmhm. Sent an Easter card. Labeled it ‘to our girls’. Sent a fiver with instructions I get you your favorite chocolate egg, too.”</p>
<p>Delia chuckled and shook her head, blinking away tears. She gave a half-hiccup, and murmured,</p>
<p>“He would.”</p>
<p>“It’s where you get your goodness from.” Patsy murmured, and the two fell into a rhythm. </p>
<p>Patsy could hear Delia’s breath, light and soft atop her, could feel their hearts beating in rhythm against one another. The warmth of the afternoon was increased only tenfold by their shared comfort, and she found herself almost dozing between soft conversations about the living room, the weather, the paint colors and their plans for the next week or so.</p>
<p>When Patsy awoke perhaps an hour, maybe two later, judging by the warming and diminishing of the light through the slats of their blinds, Delia was still curled against her. She was no longer on Patsy’s chest, having pinned her now very asleep arm, but Patsy couldn’t help but smile about it anyway. Something about the brunette fast asleep and secure, safe here in the moment, stirred the depths of her chest.</p>
<p>Speech and being open had never been a simple concept for Patsy. She kept things tightly guarded behind the iron of her smile, the steadiness of her stance and thick walls that kept people from getting too close. Meeting Delia, however, had begun to throw water against the mortar, and like a cliff face against the ocean, after time, she had crumbled.</p>
<p>Now here, in their finally shared room where the air was hazy with sleep and warmth, she felt both content and open. Delia could have asked her anything, found an honest reply and an open narrative, and Patsy was hopeless against it--</p>
<p>But she knew, also, Delia wouldn’t pit that against her. The questions she asked, the moments they shared, were always soft, gentle. She would take Patsy’s hands and guide her through the oft choppy waters of memory, and hold her when the waves threatened to overtake.</p>
<p>She could not be more grateful.</p>
<p>Delia stirred, and Patsy pulled her arm out from under her at long last. Arm buzzing with numbness, she rolled her shoulder to shake it off, and knelt to kiss the top of Delia’s head. As she did so, her own necklace spilled from her chest, and on the end spun the plain gold band she had selected.</p>
<p>Delia’s eyes flickered open and watched it a moment, before she yawned as sat up, smiling blearily with sleep. She murmured,</p>
<p>“Thought you said you weren’t going to wear it. ‘S too showy for a midwife, you said.”</p>
<p>“Changed my mind.” Patsy breathed, and Delia flushed. Patsy paused a moment, placing her hand over the metal and feeling it warm slightly between her fingers. Delia looked truly pleased (if not half awake), and reached down her own shirt to fish out her own ring. For a moment, the two sat, looking down at the respective bands--</p>
<p>Before Patsy reached out, and slid Delia’s over the tip of her ring finger. It was a clumsy, awkward gesture with the chain interfering--</p>
<p>	But Delia reached over and did the same, a soft laugh rolling through her. She looked up to Patsy and grinned at the beaming redhead, and murmured.</p>
<p>“You’re such a romantic.”</p>
<p>“Ah, but you make me that way.” 
(Delia rolled her eyes at Patsy’s grin.)</p>
<p>“Chippy for supper, then?”</p>
<p>“ Oh, you woo me!”</p>
<p>Delia laughed, pulling her hand free from her ring to swat Patsy, who grinned and freed her hands to catch Delia’s, covering them in kisses. Laughter filled the small, warm room, and it took them longer than either would care to admit to leave.</p>
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